


ice storm

by Merideath



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 05:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merideath/pseuds/Merideath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The assignment really didn’t call for her to have Captain Rogers along.  The only hairy bit was when they were blindfolded to meet with the seller of said top secret military blueprints.  In the end it had all gone fine, until they were five miles away from the safe house and the car hit a patch of black ice.  Even with all of Steve’s super soldier reflexes, he couldn’t stop them sliding off the road and crashing down an incline into a tree. </p><p>They laughed about it once Steve was satisfied she wasn’t hurt.  The snow wasn’t deep but the clouds were dark overhead as they as they walked.  About a mile down the road the storm hit, pellets of ice raining down</p>
            </blockquote>





	ice storm

**Author's Note:**

> Katertots prompted me with "Blindfold, champagne and ice" and my muse decided to run with that.

The snow doesn't give a soft white damn whom it touches.- E. E. Cummings

“Hey, look! I found a bottle of champagne. We can party till the storm breaks and we can get the hell out of here,” Darcy grins as she steps out of the kitchen, champagne bottle in hand. Steve is sitting by the fire, but his eyes are on the snow and ice hitting against the window, jaw and hands clenched tight. “Captain? You okay? Steve, talk to me.” 

She puts the bottle down on the table and kneels down beside him, curling her hand on his shoulder. “Steve, what’s going on inside that head of yours, soldier?” she murmurs and traces her fingers along his jaw; he doesn’t answer and Darcy bites her lip. Coulson is going to kill her if she has managed to break Captain America on a crappy assignment to get blueprints. Shit. 

The assignment really didn’t call for her to have Captain Rogers along. The only hairy bit was when they were blindfolded to meet with the seller of said top secret military blueprints. In the end it had all gone fine, until they were five miles away from the safe house and the car hit a patch of black ice. Even with all of Steve’s super soldier reflexes, he couldn’t stop them sliding off the road and crashing down an incline into a tree. 

They laughed about it once Steve was satisfied she wasn’t hurt. The snow wasn’t deep but the clouds were dark overhead as they as they walked. About a mile down the road the storm hit, pellets of ice raining down on them. They stumbled forward, Darcy hanging onto Steve’s hand for dear life as the visibility was reduced to a few feet as the snow and ice swirled up around them. When they got to the little safe house, Cap opened the door with the key and pushed her inside ahead of him. 

She built the fire and lit it, happy that at least there was some use for all those camping trips she hated as a kid. The kitchen held a freezer full of food, and the cupboards were filled with cans and the dusty bottle of champagne. 

“Come on, Steve, what is going on in that pretty blonde head of yours?” Darcy asks. Then, for the hell of it, she leans in to kiss him, a gentle brushing of her mouth against his. She bites his bottom lip, he gasps, and Darcy licks into his mouth tongue sliding against his. His hands fall heavy onto her hips and she finds herself being lifted to straddle his lap. 

He takes control of the kiss, chasing her tongue back into her mouth as his hands slide up and down along her back and up under her t-shirt. This is not the reaction Darcy expected at all from Steve “Captain America” Rogers, who gets bashful when some of the baby agents flirt outrageously with him. His mouth trails hot and wet along her jaw, nipping at her skin, and she arches into him, hands scrabbling at his shirt, desire pooling between her legs. He rolls them, and Darcy finds herself flat on her back, his heavy weight pressing her down as his teeth scrape against her neck. He rolls his hips against her and she can feel him hard through layers of clothing.

“Darcy,” he says when he takes his mouth away from her neck. “Tell me to stop and I will.” His eyes are dark and his voice low and raspy; his right hand teases along her side under her shirt but not quite high enough to cup her breast. “Tell me.”

She bites her lip and lets her thoughts rattle though her head. She knows, down to her toes, that if she tells him to stop he will, but she doesn’t want to stop; she wants him to kiss her again till her lips are swollen and tingling and she’s gasping for breath; wants his hands all over her, pressing into her. God, she never knew she wanted him like this. “I want...I want you,” she says and loosens her hands from his shirt, sliding them down to curl against the leather of his belt. 

He licks a stripe up her neck and Darcy rocks her hips up against him; she tries to wiggle her fingers into his jeans but the belt is too tight and he grabs her hands, pulling her arms up over her head. Darcy furrows her brow and reaches for him again, as Steve’s teeth scrape against her neck she threads her fingers through his hair tugging to get his mouth back on hers. Steve groans and pulls her hands away, “Steve?”  
“Do you want this?” he rasps and the scattered thoughts in her head become clear. The ice storm, the cold, the plane crash, fear and rage. Dr. Banner isn’t the only resident of the tower with anger management issues. She has seen Steve beat the crap out of the gym equipment after a bad day living in a world that all his friends never lived to see. Ice and cold and a loss of control over himself.

“You need control,” she says and he stills above her, nostrils flaring. “Control over yourself, or over me. Tell me what to do and I will do it.”

“You shouldn’t—” he starts and she leans up, bites his lip hard, and rolls her hips up against him. He growls, fucking Captain American growls at her and kisses her hard, his hand shoving under her bra to cup her breast, pinching her nipple before he pulls his mouth away. “Take your clothes off.”

Darcy blinks up at him dazedly when he lifts off her enough that she can pull her shirt off over her head and wiggle her hand behind her back to unclasp her bra. He is leaning over her, hands on either side of her shoulders when she reaches down to undo the button on her jeans and he puts his hand over hers and pushes her hands away to strip her jeans and panties down her legs himself. 

Darcy scrapes her teeth along her bottom lip struggling not to squirm as Steve’s eyes rake over her body. “Put your hands above your head and keep them there,” Steve says as he places a warm hand and on her thigh, thumb rubbing against her skin. Darcy swallows and raises her arms up. “I always wanted you like this…naked and wanting beneath me. Are you wet for me, doll?” 

“Yes,” Darcy says, cheeks burning a little as his intense gaze sweeps over her. His slides up her inner thigh, the backs of his nails scraping against her skin, and then his hand is between her legs sliding through damp curls to tease her clit. “So wet for me,” Steve says teasing his fingers along her slit.

“Yes,” Darcy gasps as Steve plunges his fingers into her without warning. She moans, her hips arching off the rug and she struggles to keep her hands above her head. He pumps his fingers in and out of her, his wrist bumping against her clit, making her writhe underneath him. 

“Do you want to stop?”

“No, Captain, I don’t want to stop. I want you.” Darcy gasps, and he pulls his fingers from her, teasing her clit once more. Then he pulls his hand away from her entirely to lick his fingers as he stands slowly, undoing his belt with his other hand.

“Fuck, no condoms,” Steve says.

“S’okay, implant. We’re good to go,” Darcy says, pressing her thighs together, suddenly a little uncomfortable lying naked on the floor as Steve hovers over her still dressed. 

“Don’t move,” Steve orders as he drags his shirt over his head and drops it to the floor. He slowly unzips his pants and shoves his trousers and underwear off. Darcy bites her lip as she stares; he is beautiful all the time, but naked Steve is glorious. She has never really thought about cocks being beautiful, but when Steve wraps his hand around his, slowly stroking himself twice she thinks it’s one of the most beautiful things she has ever seen. She whimpers and squirms and his left eyebrow twitches up.

"Mmm you like that?" he asks and Darcy swallows hard and nods. “Tell me.”

“Yes, I like it. Like watching you,” she confesses, wets her lips and rubs her thighs together. The corner of his mouth quirks up and he strokes himself slowly, thumb sweeping up against the head of his cock to smear the pre-come leaking from his tip. Darcy moans and he rolls his hips fucking up into his fist. “Please,” Darcy says, voice wrecked, and Steve kneels down letting go of his cock to press her thighs apart.

His hands slide up her thighs to her hips, squeezing firmly then inching up the soft skin of her belly to cup her breasts. His fingers tease at her nipples, rolling and pinching, Darcy arches up into his touch and her hands rise up off the floor. “I said not to move,” he says as he leans closer, sliding one hand up along her arm to pin her wrists to the floor. “Be good,” he warns before leaning down to wrap his lips around her nipple, tongue teasing. 

She arches her hips up off the floor and he presses his hips down to pin her to the ground. She moans at the feel of him hard against her centre, and wraps her legs around his waist, hips rocking against him. She tries to move her hands, but his grip is firm on her wrists as his lips, tongue, and teeth trail along her skin. 

He bites her neck and rocks against her, his cock pressing against her clit. “Please,” she begs and when he looks at down at her there is a feral grin curving his lips up. A thrill of fear trickles down her spine and she shudders. His grin widens before he bites at her lip, licks into her mouth. He shifts his hips and presses into her slowly until she is stretched and full. Her breath catches as she twists her hands in his grip, but she can’t get free from his hold on her wrists. She clenches tightly around him and he bucks into her.

“Behave,” he hisses and smacks her thigh. She wants to say something, anything, the words burning on her tongue, but his mouth is on hers, his tongue curling against hers as he fucks into her. She moans his name, arching into him as much as she can with his right hand pinning her wrists to the floor and the left tight on her hip keeping her where he wants her. She is sure there will be bruises tomorrow on her wrists and on her hips but she can’t think much beyond the friction and the heat coiling in her belly.

He stretches his thumb out between their bodies to press against her clit, and mouths along her jaw to bite her ear. “I want you to come for me, doll. Come for me right now,” he says voice a rough growl in her ear. And she does; the orgasm ripping through her body, white light blooming behind her eyelids as she cries out his name.

He buries his face in her neck when he comes, breath tickling against her skin. When he loosens his grip on her wrists she flexes them and wraps her arms around his shoulders. “You okay?” she asks as she lowers her legs.

“Yeah,” he huffs out, levering himself up a little bit. “Yeah I am. You?” he asks, searching her eyes.

“I’m good. So good,” Darcy says, clenching around his softening cock, making Steve hiss and gently slap her thigh as he pulls out of her and rolls to his side, his back to the cold room leaving her between his warm body and the crackling fire. She pushes away thoughts that bounce around her head, ignores the ache in her wrists, and revels in the sweet ache between her thighs. 

Steve drapes a heavy arm across her and pulls her into his chest, curling his body around her to nuzzle against her shoulder. "'M sorry," he says against her skin.

"Shut up," Darcy murmurs, looking back at his serious eyes and the worried frown on his face. "You don't have anything to be sorry about, Steve. You didn't do anything I didn't want done. I just wanted you. So, shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve says and kisses along her neck, his hand sliding down the soft curve of her belly to lightly tease between her legs.


End file.
